"How long has it been since your last confession, child?"

"How long has it been since your last confession, child?"

"Over six days," she replied shamefully. She heard the sharp intake of breath from the other side.

"Go ahead, child."

She took a few deep breaths and plunged onward. "Well, I think I am a child but I’m not quite sure. Perhaps a child with a woman's thoughts? Is that possible? Sometimes I feel…older."

"It depends on the circumstances. Go on."  A little urging was all she needed. Her feelings of betrayal and embarrassment came rolling out.

"I was alone with a boy, no, a man, four years older than me. I let him touch me, with intentions of going further. I just lost control, and the worst thing about it was it felt really good." She paused, not sure how much more she could divulge without her whole face melting off in embarrassment. She was met with silence from the other side; she took that as a good sign and plunged on. "It was fantastic until he started to get really mean. But if he hadn't gotten mean, I don't believe I would've stopped. I felt like he could've done whatever he wanted and I would've been powerless to stop it. That's not normal is it? To feel like someone can just suck your soul out with their fingertips? I mean…”

"Girl, girl, calm down, listen to me." She stopped abruptly, she realized she was babbling. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. This was ridiculous. Here she was, sixteen years old, talking about sex out of wedlock with an old priest.

"You keep saying the word ‘if’. I keep hearing it over and over again, which means whatever you're worrying about didn't happen, which also tells me you don't need to worry about it anymore." He paused a moment. "Now, you said he got mean. What exactly happened, my dear?"

What he said had made sense; everything she'd been worried about hadn't happened. It was just the thought that it could have, and that she wanted it to, that made her feel horrible.

"He grabbed my hair. He started talking in a voice I didn't recognize. I got scared and started to cry. I ran away, and then he tackled me. He started talking to himself and yelling with a bunch of different voices. It was like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Then he yelled and told me to run. It was Slate's voice when he told me to run." She choked on her last word. She had accidentally said his name! Oh God, she thought. Had she just gotten him in trouble? Could she trust this priest? He hadn't said anything yet. Maybe he hadn't heard her? She clasped her hands in prayer, hoping she hadn't said anything to hurt Slate.

"You should stay away from him." There was alarm in his voice now. "You understand me?"

"Yes," she answered quickly. "Okay, I will."

"You must avoid him." This was harsh advice, she thought.

"Do you know what could've been wrong with him?"

"No, no," came his quick answer. “Just stay away, child."